


me? I will fall in love with you every single day

by majorstallmadge



Series: Alex Manes Appreciation Week 2019 [2]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Children, Day 7: Future Fic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, Temporary Amnesia, alexmanesweek, alexmanesweek2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 12:05:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18828355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majorstallmadge/pseuds/majorstallmadge
Summary: Michael Guerin.So that’s his name, he thinks. Michael. It feels strange to have to read his own name from a wrist band, but worse yet is the realization that he doesn’t quite remember a single thing before waking up. But his train of thought is interrupted by a tall man entering the room with a white foam cup in his hands.The man is attractive, with soft-looking brown eyes, tanned skin and the most beautiful smile that Michael has ever seen. His heart flutters a little at the sight. And what a sight, his mind adds as he notice the uniform the man is wearing.(for Day 7: Future Fic of Alex Manes Appreciation Week 2019)





	me? I will fall in love with you every single day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bellakitse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellakitse/gifts).



> Thank you to the amazing hannah-writes for beta-ing this story. You're an angel!

When Michael wakes up, he is alone in a bright room. He blinks his eyes several times, trying to adjust to the light, hearing beeping and whirring sounds echoed around him. His body feels heavy and sore in ways he never experienced before. His ribs and chest ache.

When his eyes finally adjusted to the lights, he realizes he is in a sterile hospital room and the beeping is coming from the heart monitor beside his bed. There's an IV drip connected to the back of his hand, pumping some kind of transparent liquid into him. The room smells like antiseptic, his mouth tastes bitter and his head is throbbing with a headache (the kind that usually followed in the morning after a heavy night before). The fabric of the nightshirt is soft against his skin. He has no idea how he got here in the first place. He tries to get up, but his body doesn't budge. Black dots blur his eyesight and he regretted his action instantly. 

Getting up proves to be a bigger hardship than he imagined, so he settles for craning his neck to the side, searching for where the IV’d arm rests. He tries to wiggle his fingers, and after, his feet. Everything seems to work just fine, and he is glad for that. Feeling a little bit more adventurous - as if he has anything else to do - he slowly raises his arm, careful of the IV lines, and checks out the printed letters on the bracelet.

Michael Guerin.

_ So that’s his name _ , he thinks.  _ Michael _ . It feels strange to have to read his own name from a  wrist band , but worse yet is the realization that he doesn’t quite remember a single thing before waking up. But his train of thought is interrupted by a tall man entering the room with a white foam cup in his hands.

The man is attractive, with soft-looking brown eyes, tanned skin and the most beautiful smile that Michael has ever seen. His heart flutters a little at the sight.  _ And what a sight _ , his mind adds as he notices the uniform the man is wearing.

“You’re finally awake,” his voice is smooth, exuding comfort, but there is a tired edge to it. He doesn't know that voice, but he  _ wants _ to. The man’s eyes are bright with happiness as he makes his way towards the bed. “How are you feeling?”

Michael's head is pounding, but it seems irrelevant because he's utterly awe-struck by the man in front of him: he's completely transfixed. He thinks he has never seen someone so beautiful in his whole life and Michael has no idea what he is doing in his room.

“I think I know you,” the words fly out of his mouth before he can think about it and a crease forms in the other man’s face, his eyes aren’t so soft anymore. He wants to take them back immediately, that man should only ever smile.

He - Michael decides he's going to call tall, dark and gorgeous ' _ Handsome _ ' until he somehow manages to get a proper name - bites his lower lip and Michael's overcome with the urge to reach out and ease it free, kiss the sting of teeth better.

“Michael,”  the way his name rolls off Handsome's tongue is _ sinful _ , even if Michael can hear the worry and tenderness in his tone .He wants to hear his name from this man for the rest of his life. “Do you remember why you’re here?” Handsome asks calmly, walking the final paces to stand beside the bed.

He is even more good looking up close. Michael can see the glow of his sun kissed skin and the deep pink tint of the man’s lips. He is an Adonis come to life, and Michael wonders if he is still dreaming.

“No,” the answer slips his lips quickly, too perplexed to form longer sentences. The man looks at him patiently waiting if more words will come out. A few moments pass, and when Michael doesn't say anything else the man laughs, amused at something Michael isn’t aware of.

“You’re still the same though,” mirth clear in his eyes.  _ Good _ , Michael thinks. “I’ll call for someone.”

“Why?” Michael knits his eyebrows, he doesn’t want anyone. He is just fine with tall, dark and handsome. The man’s hands reach for his, squeezing them lightly. His hands are warm and soft. 

“ Cause it looks like you're experiencing some kind of amnesia ”. While that explains why he can’t remember anything, the anxiety in Handsome’s voice is unmistakable.

Handsome reaches for the red button above Michael’s bed, a beeping noise sounds down the corridor. He takes a seat on the chair beside Michael’s bed and that’s when Michael notices the blanket thrown over it.

“Did you sleep here?” He screws up his face trying to remember, but everything is still fuzzy.  Hurt. Confusion. Pain. It's briefly blinding, the sudden stabbing through his head as he tries to think past it, trying to remember what happened and it steals Michael's breath, catching inwards on a whimper. The movement feels like an ice-pick through his skull and for a moment he can't breathe. The noise has Handsome quickly reaching up to him. His unoccupied hand massages Michael’s temple soothingly. Michael moans softly as the pain begins to dissipate, slowly, under the gentle, surprisingly knowing touch from Handsome, who snorts at him.

“ Oh, I'm gonna enjoy hanging this over your head for the rest of your life,” his lips curl into a smirk before his sips the cup in his hands. “ And yes, to answer your question, I did sleep here .”

“Why?” Michael asks. The man puts the cup on the small table beside him, the one with a book and two cellphones on it. He wipes at Michael’s cheek with his thumb, Michael instinctively leaned into the touch, eyes closing to enjoy the feeling. Michael swallows thickly, a lump forming in his throat. He has to remember this man, the one that looks so warmly at him and is so gentle. The man whose touch makes him feel  _ safe _ .

The opening door interrupts their moment and a man in white jacket walks inside. “ So Sleeping Beauty finally decided to wake up ?” He says nonchalantly, not really expecting an answer. “How you feeling, Guerin?” The doctor asks him, and  Michael's guess is that they know each other. Somehow.

Handsome sighs.

“It’s like you expected, he doesn't remember anything.” 

“Ah...well,” The doctor’s confident tone deflated a little. “ It's like I said, it'll probably wear off in a few hours. A couple of days at most. Don't worry ” His gaze turns back to Michael. “You’re here because you were found on the floor of your…. Er….  _ lab _ ,” His eyes dart to Handsome for a split second. “ Far as we can tell, some kind of energy blasted you against the wall . You broke a few ribs and suffered a head contusion. That’s why you can’t remember anything; your brain is still healing from the impact.”  Michael decides that he likes this guy; he's straight to the point. “You got here in time, so no permanent damage.” 

“I found you before the worst happened.” Handsome ads.

“You found me?” Michael asks, dumbfounded, and the man nods. “Can I at least get the name of my saviour?  I can't keep callin' you tall, dark and handsome like I am right now. In my mind. ” The man flushes and the doctor grins like it  might split  his face in half.

“Oh, this is going to be amazing. I’m Kyle,” the man in white jacket introduces himself. “Fanboy of all that is going to happen here.” he motions between the two of them.

“Go away, Valenti.”  Handsome pushes him away slightly, but it's gentle, affectionate and he's smiling again.

“I will, not because you are telling me to, but because I have rounds to make.” Kyle process to check on his IV. “This is for the pain, we are not letting it run fast because it’s a strong medication. No need to keep you stoned.” He winks. “See you nerds later.”

Kyle struts to the door and steps outside, "Oh," his head pops back in the room and he's grinning, "Update me on everything later, please." “Go  _ away, _ Valenti.” Handsome closes his eyes in annoyance.

“Rude.” Kyle sing songs as he closes the door.

“Just so you know,” Handsome stats, “you hate him.” Michael laughs at that,  f eeling like there's  a story behind it.

“Do I?” Handsome nods. “ I want to ask why, but I don't know if I'd get an answer seeing as you still haven't told me your name .” 

“My name is Alex. Alex Manes.” Michael likes the sound of that.  It fits him. Handsome -  _ Alex _ \- looks at him, almost hopeful. "Anything?"

“Sadly no,” he answers gruffly, because he really wants to remember this man. 

“As for your other question..” Alex’s eyes fill with fondness and grabs Michael’s foot through the hospital blanket, giving it a light squeeze and holding on. “I slept here because we made vows to each other and  I'm pretty sure there was an 'in sickness' clause thrown in there somewhere. ” 

Michael's eyes widen in shock and a grin blossoms on his face. “You’re-,” His laugh is joyful. “You,” Michael rises from his position in bed,  motioning to Alex with an unnecessarily grand gesture but he can't help himself. “are married to  _ me _ ?” 

Alex chuckles. “Yes, is that a bad thing?” His brown eyes fill with something so intense that Michael’s heart melts a little.

Michael almost drowns in his  _ husband’s _ beauty. “A bad thing?” He gasps  melodramatically . “ Jeez, no, I'm just shocked that I'm married to the most God-like person I've ever seen . Did I bribe you?” Alex snorts, still holding his foot, but his cheeks are tinged with red. His other hand places a wild lock of Michael’s hair behind his ear.

“No bribery needed.” He adds softly. Michael chose a good one.

“So, you’re mine?” He feels as if he is sounding like a broken record here, but he has to be sure.  He's way too enchanted by Alex to risk this being a dream, or some cruel joke. Or... that they're only married by some fluke .

“Yes. And you are  _ mine _ .” Alex looks delighted in saying that, like being able to say the words is the single most important accomplishment of his life. Like Michael means the world to him.

Alex reaches out and cups Michael’s face in both his hands. They are still warm and now, Michael notices, they're a little calloused. Alex's thumbs sweep under his eyes, along the line of his cheekbones and Michael feels, deep in his soul, that this contact is important to them. He's enamoured with that idea, of having something that's special. That's _theirs_. Alex leans in, his whole face softening in a way that almost sends Michael into a cardiac arrest. The monitor beside the bed beeps loudly and whatever moment they might have been having is lost immediately.

“Whoa there, cowboy,” Alex whispers, so close that Michael  can feel Alex's breath on his face. “No need to call all the floor nurses back into the room.”  Michael smiles at his husband's playful words , but his heart is still beating at full force. Alex closes in and  nudges Michael's nose with his in a small Eskimo kiss .  A swarm of butterflies starts fluttering in Michael's stomach . He settles his own hands on Alex’s arms and let his eyes close. They are quiet for a while, just listening to  the soft sound of each other's breathing.

Alex’s unshaven cheek brushes against his own, and it feels soft, intimate.  _ Domestic _ . Michael exhales and breathes the scent of Alex’s hair, taking a moment to admire how their bodies fit together. Michael’s mind is reeling.

Michael thinks, dragging himself away from how wonderfully Alex fits against him, that this has to be hard on Alex, too. He wonders how hard it's been finding his husband unconscious and then sitting for hours in a hospital chair, watching and waiting for Michael to wake up. Hoping he would. It's with a surge of guilt that he wonders how he ever managed to forget about someone as amazing as Alex? How much of a  _ bitch _ Fate had to be to put him in this position of forgetting  _ them _ . He doesn't think it should be possible, since Alex has really only given him an Eskimo kiss and Michael's absolute putty in his hands.

Too soon, Alex pulls away and Michael misses the warmth of his breath.  He's a little annoyed at himself for failing to steal a kiss; Alex is his husband, after all, and Michael is in hospital. He definitely deserves some kisses for that.

Alex's hand reaches for his foot once more, thumb digging into the arch in a way Michael didn't know would feel so good and it makes his toes curl. Michael sighs, realising now that they'll have to go back to playing twenty questions and that any chance of kissing is, temporarily, off the table. _That’s cool_ , Michael thinks, he can wait for the perfect moment to reach for his husband’s luscious pink lips. He wonders what they taste like.

“Now, tell me," he rests back on the bed, crossing his arms cheekly, "why don't I like doctor smarty pants? He seemed okay to me.” He shrugs.

Alex grins. " This is gonna be good. I'll remind you that you said that the next time you're complaining that he's over for dinner. " He lets go of Michael’s foot.

"Nooo." Michael whines. "That was good."

"Yeah,” Alex chuckles, “ I know you like it when I do that ," his voice is fond  and, not for the first time, Michael wants to be able to remember everything about them. Their first kiss, the first time they made love, who proposed… their  _ wedding _ . He wants to remember all the times Alex probably did this in bed.

Alex’s hand goes back to his foot and Michael sighs contentedly. "You still have to answer me. What's up with the doc?"

"I used to date him in high school."  Alex replies, calmly, and Michael feels his eyes widen in surprise.

"You’re right, I hate him." His mouth curls into a pout. He knows that whatever race he might have been in with the doctor he has clearly won, but he still doesn’t like the thought of his husband ever belonging to anyone else but him. “I think I feel better and we should leave.” He knows he is being childish but he doesn’t care. 

Alex snorts. "Same possessive fool,"  Alex leaned in again, probably out of a well-honed instinct, to kiss the pout off Michael's lips but this time Michael's ready. He leans up and catches Alex's lower lip between his teeth, biting gently and stealing a proper kiss when Alex gasps in surprise.

His happiness at (finally) getting a kiss is fleeting, though, because Alex pulls back, grumbling his name in warning. “Michael…”

"What? Can't a dying man kiss his husband?"  He doesn't regret what he just did, not in the slightest, Alex tastes like sweet lemonade with a tinge of the coffee he was drinking earlier.  His only regret is that he didn't get  _ more _ .

"You’re meant to be getting...  _ excited _ ."  Alex's emphasis on the last word makes Michael wiggle his eyebrows.

" _ Excited _ , huh?" 

"God, you are such a man-child" Affection is written all over Alex’s face.

"And you love me for it."

"Yeah,"  Alex murmurs, gazing into Michael's eyes. Michael feels like he might get lost in them. "I do".

Alex blinks, breaking the intense stare and looking almost embarrassed at having let himself get carried away . "Still can't remember anything?" Michael shakes his head no. "Is the pain better?"

_ Oh yeah _ , Michael thinks, he'd had a splitting headache before. It strikes him that after Alex told him they were married the pain sort of disappeared. He supposes that pain's irrelevant after the world-changing bombshell's been dropped that the most beautiful person he's ever seen married him  _ willingly _ and loves him.

Michael is high on feelings.

A buzzing sound on the bedside table draws Alex’s attention.  He reaches for the phone and swipes his thumb over the screen. Michael watches his expression shift into something indecipherable.

“What’s wrong?” He asks Alex, a little worried.

“There’s nothing wrong,  _ per se _ …” His voice draggs on a little. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you with loads of information,”  He's carefully choosing his words and Michael doesn't like it. “ But in a few seconds, this room's going to be invaded by a sticky-fingered, pink tutu-clad hurricane .” 

He lost Michael there. What is that supposed to mean? 

“What?” He asks confused.

Alex takes a deep breath, sitting on the edge of the bed. His hand searches for Michael’s and he can see the wedding band on Alex’s finger. “We have a daughter,”  Michael stares at Alex, feeling like something in his brain just blacked out, speechless with yet another mind-blowing snippet of a life he's forgotten. “ She's four and she's... she's going through a very  _ intense _ ballerina phase. ” Alex smiles softly. “Her favorite everything is pink, and she calls you papa.”

Michael realises he's forgotten to blink, the slight burning in his eyes reminding him to and he does. Once. Twice. The mental gymnastics involved to try and process the way he's feeling are monumental; his heart's trying to bust out of his chest. He hadn't been expecting to be hit with more information, let alone a child, but he's not horrified by the prospect. He realises that Alex has given him everything and he's just starting to fully understand how frightening this experience must have been for Alex. How lucky  _ he _ is to have Alex in his life.

He still has no idea what landed him in this hospital, but he swore to himself  that he will never  give Alex another reason to worry like this.

He  raises their joined hands to his lips and presses a soft gentle kiss there, looking up at Alex, eyes shining with devotion. “I’m dying to meet her.” 

Alex smiles brightly at that. He looks at the ground before raising his gaze again to Michael and that is the most endearing thing he has ever seen in his life.  He is a goner.

“Her name’s Malia. I explained to her that you had an accident and told her you might have a hard time remembering things once you get home,” He shakes his head. “But considering she is almost here, Auntie Is couldn’t control her need to see you.” Michael wonders who Auntie Is s, does one of them have siblings?

“ Is she really that eager to see me? ” He asks in wonderment  that, just outside, there's a tiny human kicking up a fuss to see him.

“Yeah, she adores you, Michael.”  He tells him, and Michael suddenly feels reassured.

If she's  _ anything _ like Alex, Michael's pretty positive she's already got him wrapped around her sticky little fingers.

T he door bursts open  and, just as Alex predicted,  a flash of pink tulle crashes through the room, screeching  _ papa _ on the top of her lungs.  The shrillness of the shriek, though not unwelcome, makes Michael's ears sting a little.

“Malia!” Alex chastises her. “ What did we tell you? This is a  _ hospital _ where poorly people are resting. You need to be quiet .” He catches her  hands before she can climb her way up the bed. 

She turns to look at Alex. “Sorry, daddy.” Her little voice is apologetic, making grabby hands at him. Alex sighs and hoists her up on his arms.

“Where is your aunt?” He asks her and Michael can see the tip of her lips turning into a grin. 

“In the parking lot.” Michael laughs at her answer, catching the little girl’s attention  again and she beams at him.

“Don’t encourage her, Michael.  She's only like this 'cause you're her partner in crime. ” Alex attempts to send Michael a stern look, but he can feel the affectionate and amused undertone.  

“Papa and I are partners in crime!” She repeats gleefully.  Michael's having another one of those moments where his brain's refusing to cooperate with him, overwhelmed by what's happening in front of him. She's his  _ daughter _ . His and  _ Alex's  _ daughter.

She looks exactly like Alex, with the exception  of her wild, curly hair  and green and golden eyes. She probably got them from their surrogate -  he assumes that's what they did. He already knows he's a sucker for her cherubic face and huge, expressive eyes.

“Papa,” She leaned her body dangerously away from Alex’s, but he has a firm grip on her.  He gets the feeling she's more than a handful, and very unlike Alex personality wise. That makes him grin even more. “I missed you.” 

He looks at her and he knows he loves her, he can feel it from that same place deep inside himself that told him he knew Alex. “I missed you too, Princess.” 

Alex's eyes snap from Malia to Michael, and he watches his husband look shocked, dumbfounded and then very,  _ very _ relieved. Malia wiggles impatiently, leaning towards Michael still, and Michael realises that he probably uses that nickname for her all the time. He chooses to take that as a good sign, that his memories already coming back, faster than anticipated.  _ Hah _ , he thinks,  _ take that, Kyle _ .

"Okay, Malia, I'm gonna put you on the bed with Papa, but you have to be really careful, okay?" Alex has Malia's attention again, she's looking at him with huge eyes and nodding her mouth pressed together in concentration. Michael thinks it's adorable. "Papa's got some tubes in to help him get better and they're easy to break. So you gotta be a good girl and sit nicely, okay?"

Malia nods enthusiastically, and Michael wonders if she's even capable of sitting still. He watches Alex say 'good' and glance back at him before Michael's scooting over a little, creating some space for Alex to place her down beside him. It's all so domestic that Michael, once again, is utterly lost for words.

“Papa,”  Malia started slowly, plucking at the edge of his hospital gown, “Daddy said you forgot some things,” Her bright eyes are fully focused on him. “But you didn’t forgot me, did you?”

“Of course not,” Michael tells her, not hesitating for a second. He carefully combs her unruly curls with his fingers. “I could never forget you, princess.”

She smiles appeased her that papa did not forget her and curls herself over him, her tiny head on chest, with a dramatic content sigh Michael's sure she picked up from somewhere else. He looks up and meets Alex's gaze and can see his own fondness reflected on Alex's face.

“ I texted Is to tell her Malia's here with us, so she can stop worrying," Alex says with a smile, "she'll be by in a bit to pick her up."

Michael huffs, amused. “ She's a handful, huh. ”  Michael can feel her breathing slowing and evening out, and when he glances down, her blinks are getting heavier.

“She's obviously been using the stubbornness she got from you," Alex murmurs, tone teasing as he brushes his fingers through her hair, "to stay awake to see you. It's way past her bedtime. I'm surprised Is didn't end up carrying her in."

Michael has to ask. “ And, uh, who's Is ?”

“Shi- Damn, I forgot." Alex makes his way around to the other side of the bed. "Isobel's your sister."

“I  have a sister?”

“And a brother, Max.”  Alex breathes out slowly. “I’ ve got brothers too but I'm not close with mine. Not like you are with Max and Isobel .” He gives Michael a look. “We can talk about them later, when little ears aren’t around.”

“Okay.” Michael understands.

“Is was our surrogate, that’s why  Malia's hair and eyes are like yours. ” Alex  speaks again after a silence fell between them, and Michael feels surprised all over again.

“ I don't even know what I look like, ”  His laugh is a little broken. “I didn’t even make the connection.”

“Hey,”  Alex says, sharp to get Michael's attention. It works. “Don’t beat yourself up.  You're gonna remember everything in time, Michael. Kyle wouldn’t have lied to us. He’s kind of an  _ expert _ on matters concerning our family.”

Michael can feel his expression shifting into something quizzical, and he knows Alex can see the  _ what does that mean? _ on his face because Alex is shaking his head and speaking before Michael can.

“Later,”  Alex tells him, gentle and firm, "you need to get some rest. You've had a lot of information thrown at you already."

“Only if you lay here with us.” 

Alex glances around the room and Michael can tell he's trying to work out if this is a good idea or a terrible one.

“Please,” Michael begs. “It would be nice to have you both here  to help me remember.”  He knows he's playing the pity card, but honestly, nothing sounds better to Michael right now than being curled up in a little hospital bed, surrounded by the two people he knows are the centre of his world.

“Fine.” Alex smiles and carefully lays down the  bed as Michael shifts onto his side to better share the space, Malia still in his arms. Michael feels Alex's arm slipped around his waist, cuddling them both.

“Alex?” Michael asks quietly.

“Mn?”  Alex sounds sleepy like Malia and Michael feels a rush of fondness which makes him smile.

“Thank you. For everything,”  his voice was trembling slightly, and he takes a breath to control himself. He isn't sure it works. “For loving me and giving me a family.”

Alex buries his face against Michael’s back smiling. “You’re welcome, Guerin”  Michael feels the warm press of a kiss against the back of his neck. “Now, go back to sleep.” Michael closes his eyes  and, before sleep can take him, he prays to whomever might be listening:  _ please let me remember everything when I wake up. Please let this be real. _

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to post this on the actual day of the appreciation week, but life happens. I hope you guys enjoyed reading and feel free to leave a comment below!  
> Join me at poeedamerons on tumblr so we can cry over the perfection that is Alex Manes.


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